


While the Boss is Away

by Holmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drunken sex, Lots of OCs - Freeform, M/M, Sebastian getting into lots of mischief, Twincest, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:57:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1672133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holmes/pseuds/Holmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian enlists the help of his twin brother when Jim is out on pleasure, desperately in need of distraction. The night goes from bad to worse (or good to better, depending on the way you look at it) when Sebastian and his mates end up trashing the flat and end up in rather compromising positions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morning After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [folkinround](https://archiveofourown.org/users/folkinround/gifts).



A  _ping_  sounded in the room.

Sebastian Moran awoke with a groan cracking from his throat, which felt bone dry.

Christ, what the fuck had happened last night? He got blackout fucking drunk, apparently.

Call it a habit, I guess, now that Jim was out spending nights with his new toy.

He wouldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt, being passed over for William Slane, but at least Sev was always right there to come comfort him when the going got desperate.

Another  _ping._

Sebastian blinked up at the ceiling. Even his eyes felt dry. He rubbed at them in irritation, trying to will his memories back from last night unsuccessfully. He turned and found a huge pile of blankets all bunched up beside him, a single lock of familiar blonde hair poking out the top. The sniper smiled and stretched out. His fingertips felt along the warm sheets until they hit his sleeping brother, and he rolled slowly onto his side, pressing his face to the blankets, burrowing until his lips met his brother’s ear.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

“Mmph,” Severin replied. Clearly not ready to wake up.

Sebastian chuckled lightly and pressed a kiss to his ear, prompting the man to shove him away. Sebastian grinned. Bastard.

His mobile  _pinged_  a third time, and the sniper turned groggily back, searching. It wasn’t on his nightstand where it usually was.

Sebastian was able to locate it right next to him but on the floor, still in the pocket of a discarded pair of jeans. He reached a long arm out, groaning as he snatched it up and opened it. The battery was running low, and he had three texts waiting from Jim.

_Good morning, Tiger. JM_

_Sounds like you had fun. JM_

_I miss you too. Always do. JM_

Sebastian furrowed his brow and went through his sent messages.

_Hey babe. SM_

_Hope you’re having fun. SM_

_Sev’s here. We’re drinking and playing cards. He’s beating my arse. SM_

_Just found out he’s been cheating this whole time. SM_

_I shoulda known, I s’pose. SM_

_Goin to bed. SM_

_Can I fuc k him? SM_

_haha just kissing, boss. SM_

_Kidding* SM_

_kissing too though. SM_

_ily. SM_

_I miss u. SM_

Fucking hell, what a train wreck. He didn’t remember any of those texts. The sniper groaned in shame and typed out a response to his husband, laying back down among the sheets.

_Christ, I feel like shit. SM_

_I don’t even know what happened last night. Damn. SM_

_How was your night, darling? SM_

Jim messaged back quickly.

_I hope the sheets are clean when I get back. JM_

_I had a great night. JM_

Sebastian chuckled at that, feeling the sheets again, palm down, making a slow, sweeping motion over the fine linen.

_Ha ha, very funny. SM_

And then he felt something…familiar.

_Holy fuck, there’s actually come on the sheets. SM_

_Fuck. SM_

_Maybe it was from before? You and me? SM_

The sniper began to pull at the sheets, stripping the bed between them and making Severin moan in resistance. Their sheets were completely stained. Like someone was too drunk to even think of diverting their load anywhere but all over the fucking bed.

Sebastian bit his lip between his teeth, staring with an uncertain panic over the soiled fabric.

_Jesus Christ, Seb. JM_

_Figure it out, yeah? JM_

Figure it out. Good plan. Sebastian sat on the edge of his bed (pausing to get used to the shift in equilibrium) and plugged his mobile into its charger right by the nightstand. From there, he went to investigate.

The flat was a fucking mess.

There were glasses and bottles everywhere, the place was bloody trashed, cards and clothes were scattered throughout the flat, and there were poker chips in the goddamn toilet.

_Take your time coming back, yeah? SM_

And that wasn’t even the best bit.

In the living room, laying on top of one another on the couch and fucking  _naked,_ were Dmitri Volkov and Jesse Ford.


	2. Poker

Sebastian tapped his fingers impatiently against his knee at the airport, waiting for his brother’s plane to come in. He was anxiously waiting, feeling his stress levels rise with every additional minute that Jim was gone.

He would have to get used to Jim going over to see his little fuck toy, but it was difficult. He felt unwanted, and alone, and guilty for bringing his brother out from fucking Dublin just because he was being so fucking insecure.

But picking out a bunch of ridiculous Hawaiian shirts for Jim only provided him with so much happiness. It was fun and distracting, but now it was night, and he’d already had an awful (and expensive) drink at the shitty airport pub, and he just wanted his brother to be here.

When he finally came, relief flooded back into his heart, and he felt fucking _safe_  again.

His brother looked great. Caitlin was really doing him good, he said, and it shows. He was eating healthier, doing less pickpocketing and more cybercrime, and even exercising (“outside of bed, of course,” nudge nudge).

Yeah, Sebastian wished he was doing a bit more of that.

Damn, he hated sharing.

Severin was immediately aware of Sebastian’s state. The man was ragged, and it showed easily enough. He was glad he came.

Once they were back at the flat, Sebastian gestured to the place.

“Make yourself at home,” he said. Too quiet-like.

Hell. Severin knew he needed to distract his brother, and fast.

“How about we play some poker, Sebby?” he said cheerfully.

“I haven’t played in ages,” Sebastian replied, monotone.

“Are you saying that you’re gonna lose, baby brother?”

Sebastian finally smiled, the tiniest quirk of his lips. “Fuck no,” he said. “I’ll go get some cards and chips, you fix us some drinks.”

“You want drinks?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, definite. “I want drinks. Scotch.”

Severin chuckled. “You want a fucking cigar, too?” he asked with sarcasm. Sebastian heard it, laughed, and didn’t even fucking care.

“Yeah!” he said with enthusiasm. “Why the fuck not? And call up our boys.”

“That’s my Sebby,” Severin grinned.

Within the hour, all the boys were circled around the table. Flannigan, Rogers, Jesse, Demi, Sev, and Seb.

Sebastian was chewing on a fat cigar and feeling like a damn king on his second scotch, throwing down cards and pulling in chips, keeping his mobile close by to send Jim an occasional update.

Amid all the smoke and drinking and uproarious laughter, Severin stared at his brother with a happy, fulfilled smile. Damn, it was a good thing he managed to get his brother to cheer right up. They exchanged meaningful glances often, almost as often as Severin used his slight-of-hand to steal a card or a chip.

After all, Severin never lost a card game. Even for leisure.

As the hours passed and Rogers left to get his sleep for an ongoing assignment Jim had him on, the drinking only increased to fill the man’s absence. They even got Dmitri (who was giggling nearly constantly, now) to smoke a cigar. He looked so cute.

But Sebastian noticed absently that he wasn’t the only one looking at the boy.

Jesse bumped his shoulder into Dmitri’s often, the pair smiling and laughing together and at nearly every fucking thing. Like the entire world was an inside joke to them. Jesse was apparently a poker pro back in his military days, and he gave Dmitri pointers. Demi showed him his cards and Ford never made a move against the boy. In fact, he even purposefully let Demi win off of him a couple times. They were inseparable.

It was cute. Sebastian was slightly jealous.

The boys went on playing until early morning, when Flannigan—always the life of the party—told the boys that they were sufficiently drunk to still have a good time without him, and he left.

And they  _were_  pretty fucking drunk at this time, drunk enough not to even be bothered by their dwindling numbers.

“Ah, fuck it,” Severin said, leaning against his brother and pointing his glass in the direction of Jesse and Dmitri. “They can stay, can’t they? This is  _too fuckin’ fun._  The more the merrier, innit?”

Sebastian seemed to latch onto this phrase. Perhaps it was because it was his coping mechanism. Because no amount of people will fill Jim’s absence, but he would fucking die trying to fill it with friends and smoke and aged scotch and poker chips.

He was having a real good fucking time. He laughed and nodded, wrapping his arm around his brother.

“Yeah!” he cried. “Th’more the fucking  _merrier!_  The more, the— _Sev?_ ”

Sebastian had looked over at his brother as he held him close, and spotted something odd. A small stack of cards tucked neatly into his shirt pocket, a small pile of chips on his lap.

“You’ve been  _cheating!_ ”

Movement broke out all around the table as Jesse stood and cussed out Severin in old American slang. Dmitri threw his cards down, upset that his chances to succeed were cruelly thwarted, but soon his frown turned to giddy laughter as he recognized Jesse’s vocabulary as coming from a popular American mobster film, recited verbatim.

Sebastian sprung up from his seat to tackle Severin for some proper brotherly punishment, but Sev was already gone, too used to such a situation. Chips spilled everywhere as he fled, darting away as Sebastian followed closely behind.

Dmitri and Jesse followed too, all of them laughing unstoppably now. Drunk and tearing through the flat, each of them tried to capture Severin for themselves. Finally the hunted man locked himself in the bathroom, threw the contents of his pockets into the toilet, flushed it, and ran back out. But Sebastian, who was waiting, tackled him into the ground.

Severin’s chin hit the floor, and thank Christ nothing was between his teeth because otherwise it would have been bitten off. He started bleeding but they all laughed.

“How’s it look?” Severin asked good-naturedly as Jesse and Dmitri laughed and offered the bleeding man more to drink in effort to numb the pain.

“Looks pretty,” Sebastian said with a wink. He kissed the corner of the large scrape, pulling away with a peculiar smile that made Severin lick and bite his lips.

The con man downed a shot of something handed off to him by an unknown hand, and the poker game ended there.

But the festivities sure didn’t.

They all migrated to the living room, moving through the now torn-apart flat, to go see what was on the telly.

The ensuing fight over the remote was astounding.

Sebastian had the device first, flipping through the channels in the darkened living room, all the men laughing and talking loud enough to cover any noise the television might’ve made.

Jesse lost his shit when Sebastian passed over a channel featuring a rerun of a familiar (and trashy) American reality show about cops, and he went to grab the remote out of Sebastian’s hand. As Sebastian pulled away his arm, however, Jesse tackled his boss to the ground, the two rolling around and wrestling for the remote.

In all of this, however, the remote fell innocently to the side, and Severin plucked it up quickly, letting the boys fight as he changed the channel to a late-night comedy show. Dmitri, however, hated this show. And, drunk as he was, expressed no reservations as he snatched the remote out of Severin’s hand and cried, “ _I want to watch a film!_ ”

“You’re fucking  _blind!_ ”

“In one goddamn  _eye!_ ”

The flat only grew louder and louder, each man screaming or fighting drunkenly with one another and laughing through it all and even the coffee table managed to tip over as Sebastian and Ford wrestled. Finally the bedlam ceased as a large crash sounded in the other room, the sound of thick, shattering glass.

Each man sobered up immediately, hearts pounding as they drew together at a potential threat. It sounded like a window breaking, Sebastian thought. And by the looks on everyone else’s faces, they thought the same.

So, with each man pulling out weapons of their own (two small butterfly knives for Severin and Jesse, bare hands for Dmitri and Sebastian), they moved to the source of the noise to investigate.

Peculiarly enough, it was only the large bottle of scotch falling to the ground. It had been placed precariously on the edge of the table, and it crashed to the floor. The whole room smelled like scotch.

“What a waste,” Dmitri grieved quietly.

After that harrowing moment, the men started to relax again, and a new emotion started to take over their drunken minds alongside relief.

The men began to lean into one another. Jesse hugged Dmitri as he offered him the remote, and they exchanged meaningful glance before they slipped off to the living room to go watch that awful American cop show.

Sebastian looked past his brother toward the boys, and moved off to go join them, but was stopped as Severin grabbed his collar.

“No,” he said quietly. “Let ‘em be.”

It took Sebastian a moment to  _get it_ , but finally he got it and, Christ, he only wanted to go follow them more now.

“Are they gonna fuck?” Sebastian breathed.

“I dunno. Maybe,” Severin grinned. “They’re gay, right?”

“No,” Sebastian shook his head. “Well…I dunno. Jesse sure as fuck isn’t. Demi just…is really secretive about who he takes home, or something.”

“Let’s go see.”

Sebastian giggled. “That’s a dirty idea,” he whispered. “Okay.”

The two men waited a long while, listening to the television (the volume of which was turned way up). After what seemed like hours to their drunken minds (it was really five minutes or so), they crawled into the darkened room—Army style—on their elbows. They were more stealthy in their heads, but Jesse and Dmitri were drunk, too, and didn’t even notice them creeping clumsily in.

Their bodies were illuminated by the light of the telly that they weren’t watching, two bodies tangled up on the couch.

They were snogging!

Dmitri was on top, hands grabbing at the cloth of his lover’s shirt, tightening them into fists as he bit and hummed against Ford’s lips. As Ford licked his tongue into Dmitri’s mouth, his hands reached around and grabbed the boy’s arse, sending them both giggling. Jesse looked more uncertain about the whole thing than Dmitri, but  _damn!_  Sebastian couldn’t even be jealous. He was too excited about this new development. And in more than one way.

Sebastian played peeping tom on the two boys for a while, licking his lips and watching as they snogged and whispered drunkenly to one another. As Volkov slowly began to tug Ford’s shirt up and off, the sniper turned to whisper something lewd to his brother, but found that he wasn’t even there. He’d fucking left!

Indignantly, Sebastian crawled back away, moving off to go find his fucking brother. Why the hell would he leave him? I mean, Jesus Christ, it wasn’t every day you got to watch your two most attractive men going at it. For fucks sake, Sebastian was hard from just watching it! Was Cat enforcing some strict rules on him? Was Severin—

Oh.

As Sebastian opened door after door throughout the flat looking for his brother, he finally found him in his bedroom.

In his bed.

Wanking.

And not even just wanking, but in the throws of fucking passion, just getting off as he walked in.

“ _God, fucking hell, yes_ ,” his brother moaned, head thrown back, come spilling all over their goddamn sheets.

Holy fucking shit.

He was gorgeous.


	3. Sated

Sebastian wasn’t aware of how long he stood there, gaping at his brother like an idiot.

He also wasn’t aware of his feet moving forward, step after step, bringing him closer to his brother.

He was climbing into bed, and suddenly he was kissing Severin’s neck as the man came down, a weak pulse of come beading up and trickling down over his hand now. Severin seemed to take it all in stride, moaning easily at the proximity of his brother. His face was flushed and easy, and as his hand finally stilled he wiped it in a clumsy gesture across the already-stained sheets. The con man rolled onto his side, wrapping Sebastian up into his arms, connecting their lips in a slow, drunken kiss.

There was heat between the two men, and a contrast of  _sated_  and  _to be sated_. Sebastian used his teeth much more often than Severin, his cock pushing painfully against his trousers, reaching for his brother’s belly.

Sebastian’s lips parted at last, gasping against Severin’s mouth as the man moved his hand between them, undoing Sebastian’s jeans and clasping his cock.

“Mmmm,” Severin smiled stupidly. “You feel jus’ like me, baby brother.”

“ _Oh—_ “ Sebastian stuttered out, nails digging into his brother’s shoulders. “F— _fuck_ , S-sev.” He pulled his hips back and slid them forward, pressing his cock through his twin’s fist. He touched his forehead to Severin’s—a mirror image—and he moaned desperately.

“Keep…keep goin’ yeah? Keep doing that.”

Severin chuckled, low and deep. “You feeling better now, then, Sebby?”

Sebastian furrowed his brow, grunting as he slid his hips forward and his cock through Severin’s hand again. “Huh?” he breathed. “From what?”

“From  _Jim_ ,” Severin grinned.

“Wh—where’s Jim?”

Severin laughed. “Jim’s fine, love,” he said affectionately. “He’s just out.”

“On work?”

“Yeah,” Severin said, sliding his hand down his brother’s cock again, drawing a moan out of his lips. He figured it’d be better if he thought Jim was out working, rather than up fucking his boy toy. “He’s working hard, baby. Now come for me, hey?”

Sebastian groaned as his brother continued to wank him off, the sound beautifully obscene as Sev’s hand grew slick with his own come and his brother’s pre-come. Soon enough Sebastian was gasping and arching, moaning as he tugged at his brother’s hair, and he came no more gracefully than the first Moran, spilling all over himself and the sheets.

Sebastian laughed breathlessly as his brother kissed him, and the sniper ripped a pillowcase off of one of the pillows, wiped at his skin, and threw the soiled case away. From there, the two fell asleep quickly in each others’ arms.

Out in the other room, however, things were only just starting.


	4. Observations

Jesse couldn’t say that he didn’t see this coming. Ha.

There’d been sexual tension between he and his best friend Dmitri for—shit—months and  _months_ , now. They lived together, laughed and drank and worked together, and they couldn’t stand being apart.

Dmitri had always been an upstanding young man. At first, Jesse just thought he was shy. He never brought girls home, and it made him feel a bit bad—a bit uncomfortable—when he himself brought some chick home every weekend.

But as the months wore on, Jesse found himself bringing girls home less and less. He became interested, instead, with Dmitri’s habits. Was his culture to blame for the cold stoicism with which he treated life? Never loosening up,  _or_ loosening up the legs of some beautiful woman?

He was certain that Dem could  _get_  some if he at least vaguely tried. Girls and boys alike paid him attention when they went out drinking. And hell, the kid even noticed them and their advances, but he always politely declined. Whenever Jesse asked about it, Dems would just shrug and say something along the lines of, “not in the mood.”

And Christ, Dmitri was indeed  _never_  in the fucking mood.

“You do know that it takes a little bit to get  _in the mood_ , right?” Jesse had once said. He’d gotten frustrated after watching Dmitri turn down a 10 with a capital ‘T’. He took a sip of his pint as he watched her gorgeous ass move as she walked away. “You don’t gotta be, like, fuckin’ hard right then and there,” he explained. “She looks gorgeous, you say  _yes_ , and then she works you up back at her place with her lips and tits and stuff.”

“I know how it works,” Dmitri said flatly. “I’m just not in the mood.”

“Do you got some super-strict preference?” Jesse tried. He  _needed_  more details. “Do you hold out for redheads or something?”

“No,” Dems replied, sipping his pint.

“You a faggot?”

“I’m just not in the  _mood_ , Jesse,” Dmitri sighed. “I’m just  _never_  in the mood. Now shut up about it.”

That was sort of the end of that, as Jesse could see that his roommate was getting royally pissed. He didn’t ask about it again.

But he never stopped  _observing_.

Dmitri was a quiet guy, but he seemed to make friends easily, regardless. It didn’t take many words for him to get his point across, and he was the sort that struck you as a strong, stand up guy. A real chum. Someone you wanna call your buddy.

Jesse noted Dmitri’s patterns closely. He’d talk to people when they went out to pubs if they initiated conversation. He’d likely keep them around with his magnetic presence, and from there he’d enjoy their company and do little else. If they made him a proposition, he would politely decline. Every. Damn. Time.

Eventually Jesse just accepted it, and even chuckled under his breath when he saw someone approach his roommate. “Oh no,” he’d murmur, inaudible over the background noise of the pub. “Don’t bother, baby.  _He’s not in the mood_.”

This would usually be met by a swift yet subtle jab from one of Dmitri’s elbows.

But then, there was one night.

One night when something unheard of happened.

Dmitri was in the mood.

Jesse’s roommate had been acting strange for a couple days, now. More energetic than usual, a bit more anxious, even. He went for two runs instead of one and was more prone to outbursts (mild ones, mind you, but still unusual for Dem).

After about four days of noticeably changed behavior, Jesse was in his room on his laptop, reading over an assignment Jim had in store for them on Monday, when he heard Dmitri enter their flat.

That was unusual in itself because his roommate hadn’t asked him if he wanted to go out tonight and he didn’t even remember Dmitri  _leaving._

But he was sure that it was him, alright. He recognized well the sound of his keys clanging into the bowl by the door, the way he closed and locked the door right away. And then, of course, he heard the boy’s voice.

But it wasn’t calling out to Jesse.

It was talking to someone else. Someone with him.

Jesse slid quickly off of his bed, creeping off just in time to press his ear to the crack of his closed door as the couple passed by.

“Bedroom’s right this way.” It was Dmitri’s voice, but  _Jesus_ , it almost didn’t sound like him. It was lower, thicker, even  _sultry_.

God, it was weird.

Then there came a low, playful growling laugh that almost made Jesse’s eyes pop out of his head. Holy shit. That was  _Dmitri_  growling. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, it was incredible. He’d have never thought.

And apparently the boy was good.

Jesse stayed in his room all night, unable to sleep much with all the sounds coming from his roommate’s bedroom—huffing sounds, and cries of pleasure. Dmitri’s partner sounded suspiciously  _male_.

They were going at it for quite a long fucking time, too. They at least came five times.  _At least_.

Miraculously Jesse managed to fall asleep between fucks, and stayed asleep until the miserable morning. He woke before the sun and went to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. He sat at the table, sipping from a mug between bites of cereal, when he heard his roommate’s door open. Jesse’s ears perked up and he watched as an unfamiliar man exit, his clothes askew and his blonde hair messy. He was attractive and tall. It seemed weird that he was (according to the noises he’d heard last night) clearly the submissive one.

The stranger shouldered on a jacket and made his way down the hall, through the open floor-plan kitchen to the door.

“Hi there,” Jesse had said.

The man gave him a weird look. “Hullo,” he said. Maybe it was the accent. They were a very  _international_  household, after all.

The stranger left without another word, and Jesse giggled and stood, making straight for Dmitri’s room.

“Looks like someone was finally in the mood!” he called triumphantly. Dmitri lay, sprawled on his bed, assumed to be naked under the sheets draped low around his hips. He groaned, clearly not in the mood for this bullshit.

“What a nice guy,” Jesse went on. “And, by the sounds of it, he sure can take it! I’m so happy for you two, what’s his name?”

“Shut th’fuck  _up_ , Jess,” he said, accent thick.

“You know how I feel about  _Jess_ ,” Jesse said. He fucking  _hated_  Jess. “Is your boyfriend coming around for dinner tonight? I can make a pie.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Dmitri muttered in annoyance.

“Good friend?” Jesse offered. “Arch nemesis? Go-to prostitute?”

“ _A one time fuck, Jesse_ ,” Dmitri hissed. He threw his pillow across the room, and his exhaustion did nothing to his impeccable aim. He hit Jesse harmlessly, though square in the face. “Now get out of my room,” he grumbled. “I’m not in the mood.”

With that, Jesse burst out into a fit of laughter, closing the door behind him and leaving his roommate alone until he shuffled out of bed around noon.

After that night, he was back to his normal self. The outbursts, pacing, and overall energy calmed to his usual, even steadiness. He went back to refusing every advance. Dmitri was—based on Jesse’s conversations and observations—a fan of good-looking blondes, and cock.

Jesse wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or not.

Jesse had a gay cousin back home, but he never really talked to him about it, other than teasing him occasionally. Now Jesse  _lived_  with a faggot.

But still, after that he couldn’t help eyeing his roommate’s actions in a different sort of light. Analyzing them for gayness levels, wondering idly if he liked that shampoo because it was cheaper or because he liked men. Whereas before this sort of behavior was the norm for Jesse whenever he learned someone was a homo, now he found it ridiculous. I mean, he  _knew_  Dmitri. This thinking was automatic, but it only took him a week to throw it all away. So what if Dems picked out that shampoo? It’s because he fucking wanted it, not because of who he fucked. Dmitri was still manly as fucking shit; the toughest dude he knew, and one of the smartest too.

He just happened to like dick.


	5. Practice

Things went quickly back to normal, and the months began to pass. Dmitri, as ever, was never in the mood.

But soon enough, Jesse realized his roommate growing a bit  _antsy_.

He snapped at Jesse on Tuesday for leaving the bathroom a mess, and he began going out for two runs a day. The ole sex drive kicking back into gear after months of dormancy, apparently. Jesse watched him with amusement as he grew more and more visibly frustrated, wondering who his roommate’s next one-night lover would be.

It was Saturday night that they received a call from Severin, of all people. Get the hell over here, he’d said. We’re at Sebastian’s place and Jim is going to be gone all night. There’ll be poker and drinks.

Well, that sounded like a damn good fucking time.

The two boys hurried right over, thrilled as they ran into Flannigan on the way and met Rogers at the front door. They all spilled into the flat at once. Instant party.

Dmitri seems to relax a bit with an atmosphere distracting enough to pull his mind away from his nagging sexual frustration.

Only that Dmitri is now long gone.

Now Jesse’s roommate was over his lap, his fists tangled in his shirt and their lips crushing together. Now  _Jesse_  was turning into Dmitri’s relief. Part of him was completely stunned and screaming at him to stop, but another part was crazy fucking drunk and turned on and  _curious_.

They made out, Dem on top of him and commanding the whole thing. He was clearly the fucking boss when he was horny, but he seemed to be on his best (though drunken) behavior, given that he wasn’t straddling some random stranger but his best friend, his roommate, and—now—his experimenting lover.

Dmitri laughed at Jesse, who didn’t quite know what to do as his shirt was lifted up and off.

“Where the fuck do I put my hands?” he murmured. “You don’t got any tits.”

Dmitri laughed and growled as he leaned in and bit at the edge of his roommate’s ear.

“Sex isn’t all about tits, stupid,” he whispered. As if to illustrate his point, Dmitri licked his tongue into Jesse’s ear, and one set of fingers pinched gently at his nipple as another moved between his legs, cupping his junk in a skilled hand. Maybe he’d’ve been able to handle one at a time, but all three sensations at once sent Jesse writhing, arching his back, fingernails clawing at Dmitri’s back.

“Oh _hell!_ ” he cried, panting and whimpering already. “ _Fuck_ , Dem—what the shit was  _that?_ ”

“That was  _skill_ , Jesse,” Dmitri replied, pressing a chaste kiss to the boy’s nose.

“You’re a really good fuck, aren’t you?” Jesse said weakly, tugging his roommate’s shirt up and off, admiring his lightly scarred skin, his lean body.

Dmitri gave a devious smirk. It was enough to bring Jesse from hard to _achingly_  hard.

“I am,” he replied. “And if your cock is as big as it feels, it matches up perfectly with your attitude.”

Jesse laughed and lifted his hips. Wow. He liked this already. “I fucking love you, Dems,” he said, grinning stupidly as he pushed drunkenly at his own jeans and boxers, pulling them down all at once. His cock—thick and of a respectable length—fell heavily against his own stomach, and Dmitri licked his lips, smiling wickedly down at Jesse.

“Oh, we are going to have  _fun_ ,” he growled. That  _growl_  again. Yet, whereas last time it was directed at a random dude in their apartment, now it was Dmitri growling down at  _him_  and it felt so fucking weird but he wanted  _more_.

Jesse, for once, seemed to lose his voice, and he began to tug at Dmitri’s trousers, ripping out the button, wrenching down the zipper. He seemed to have a fairly established package, himself; the front of his pants were full and already stained. Jesse swallowed, a bit nervous. He’d never done this, never stripped a man down, purposefully working his clothes off to see his dick.

He was a little nervous he wouldn’t like what he saw.

But relief flooded him when Dmitri stripped bare at last, and—yes—Jesse liked what he saw.

—

Dmitri was just a bit longer than average and just a bit thicker than average, perfectly proportional on its own but perhaps bigger than what you’d expect for a man like Dems.

Their clothes were all on the ground, and Jesse felt a bit of nervousness enter him, and he looked up at his best friend with a hint of anxiety on his face.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Dmitri asked gently. Jesse’s heart seemed to tighten in fear, and he shook his head.

“No,” he whispered, quieter and less sure of himself than Dmitri had ever seen him. “Listen, Dems, I’ve never been with a man before,” he admitted. “I dunno if I’ll…like this.”

Dmitri let out a quiet chuckle, and he leaned in, their cocks throbbing between them and a pleasant shiver ran through Jesse. He hummed as Dmitri pressed their lips together, not expecting to be making so much noise (as, already he’s been much more vocal than usual), but he couldn’t really  _control_  it. He brought his hands up, fingers scraping lightly at the short hair at the back of Dmitri’s neck.

“Don’t worry,” Dmitri replied, laying slow kisses against his best friend’s neck, scraping his teeth lightly across his throat, leaving behind the smell of alcohol on Jesse’s skin. “I’ll ride you.”

Jesse’s breath caught in his throat, and he almost choked on fucking nothing. His stomach flipped violently. It nearly knocked the wind out of him. He’d never felt so fucking nervous, so on edge and anxious and simultaneously  _hungry_  for someone before. And it was his best fucking friend. A man.

“Okay,” he said shyly, his cheeks blushing. Dmitri had never seen Jesse blush before. Cocky ass. He leaned in and bit at the apples of his cheeks playfully, only making them redder, making Jesse laugh and shove him away, relaxing him a bit.

Volkov began to feel around the pockets of his discarded jeans, remembering that they needed supplies.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a condom and lube on you, would you?” he asked. Jesse bit his lip shyly and reached out for his own jeans on the floor, slipping his fingers into a back pocket and pulling out a condom. He always carried one. Always.

“This is all I have,” he breathed. Dmitri licked his lips. Spit lube wasn’t the most effective, and Dmitri was just contemplating if he was drunk enough to go without proper lubricant, when Jesse (who’d thought that no lube meant no _sex_  in the gay world) wiggled out from underneath him, throwing an arm over to the end table by the couch, opening up the drawer.

“Maybe there’s some lotion or something we can—“ His hand clasped around something and he pulled it forth. Both men marveled at it. It was a real, true bottle of lube.

“Woah!” Jesse said, grinning wide. “Lucky! Huh?”

Dmitri only grinned. “I dunno if luck had much t’do with it,” he smirked. “I think maybe our boss and Sebastian…”

“No!”

“Why else would it be here?”

Jesse stared at the lube uncertainly in his hand, contemplative. “D’you think they’ll notice we took some?” he breathed. In his mind, secrecy was of the utmost importance. His first gay act.

“Course not,” Dmitri murmured. He plucked the condom up off of Jesse’s stomach, ripping open the packaging and putting it in his mouth, carefully placed behind his lips. Jesse stared on, wide-eyed, the lube falling out of his hand as Dmitri’s lips slid down, down, down, hot over his dick.

“Holy shit,” he murmured. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Not until Dem began to work his way up, that is, sucking him as he went. Jesse’s head fell back against the couch. “Oh my god,” he groaned.

Dmitri pulled off of him like he was a fucking  _lollipop_ , lips breaking the seal sinfully. And he had to admit, he’d never been with a girl whose lips felt so skilled around his cock.

Dmitri was amazing.

Jesse let him take total control, finding it much easier to let himself be manipulated this way and that. Dmitri was kind and gentle, always making sure that Jesse was still okay with all of this. Ford’s eyes fluttered shut as Dmitri poured a liberal amount of lube on his cock, his hand cupping him and slicking him up evenly. The noise drove Jesse insane.

But that was nothing compared to what came next.

Dmitri focused on him as he positioned himself over Jesse’s throbbing, slicked and ready cock, lowering himself slowly. He was too drunk to mind the pain of sitting over him  _sans stretching_ , and it was completely worth it to try to turn Jesse.

And it looked like it might be working.

Dmitri almost thought Jesse would come right away as his roommate began to breathe heavily, gasping and moaning and writhing as his cock was enveloped in the  _hottest, tightest, slickest_  heat he’d ever experienced.

From there, they were all heaving chests and huffing breaths, shining with sweat and driving into and working over each other. Jesse cursed often and Dmitri shut him up by leaning in, connecting their lips, licking his tongue into the man’s mouth.

“I’ve thought about this so much,” he purred.

That sent Jesse over the edge.

He thrusted his hips, shining with sweat, up into Dmitri, prompting the man to moan, his hand flying to his own cock. Two strokes and it was all over for Volkov as well, and he was coming over Ford’s chest and Jesse’s eyes widened in surprise and he moaned even louder.

They moved together in an erratic, drunken,  _teenager-esque_  manner, neither knowing quite what they were doing with each other, both so compromised that it was all Dmitri could do to pull off of him when they’d finished. They collapsed onto one another, and Jesse pressed his lips to Dmitri’s cheek, still groaning deep in his throat. His condom was still over his softening cock but he had already forgotten it as he tugged a throw blanket up over them.

“That was good,” Dmitri nodded, already sleepy as he tucked himself into the crook of Jesse’s arm, curling up against him in a surprising role change, just cuddling. “I won’t be in the mood again for quite a while, now.” He smiled, and Jesse didn’t say anything.

Dmitri blinked his eyes open, staring up at his roommate with a frown. Jesse’s face was empty, his brow furrowed,  _uncertain._  

“Did you think that was okay?” Dmitri asked, feeling nervous, now. What if Jesse didn’t like it? What if this made things weird tomorrow and they weren’t best friends anymore? Dmitri began to worry profusely, regret already flooding into him.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, cupping the side of Ford’s face. “Are you okay, Jess? Please, I’m so sorry! I thought you were enjoying yourself…”

“No, it’s not that,” Jesse replied slowly. He stared down at his best friend, his mind muddled with sex and alcohol. “I just don’t know if I can wait that long.”


End file.
